“Why, honey chile, biggety is southern for ‘full of yourself,’ possibly even ‘overbearing’. And that pushy lilac-haired woman is nothing if not biggety.” Ophie was always happy to provide language lessons along with her well-mannered ladies lectures and cooking advice. Her encyclopedic wisdom knew no bounds.
Maggie watched her daughter’s face as she absorbed the meaning. “See, Holly, you and your friends have a language all your own and sometimes so do your elders.”
“Biggety!” Holly was gleeful. “I know a lot of kids who are biggety! Can’t wait to intro the word on Twitter.” She pulled out her cell phone and began tapping the keyboard.
Cady came over, pulled up a chair and asked what the kerfuffle was all about. When Bridgy and I explained the resort company expressed an interest in an island Delia supposedly owned, Cady said it all made sense.
“The newspaper received a letter from some company asking for any biographic information we had on residents who were at least third- or fourth-generation Floridians. They were primarily interested in ‘family land.’ I bet it was the same company.
“The request for land information struck my publisher as odd, so he responded that we don’t have anything like that available. I guess they had other resources.”
Blondie stopped by and I introduced Cady. After hellos all around I asked what she had said to Miss Augusta that helped her regain her self-control so quickly.
“I told her that Willie Harcroft wet his pants in the schoolyard during recess in third grade. I know it for a fact because I was there when it happened. And now when Augusta looks at him, she’ll see a little boy wearing enormous black spectacles and sodden dungarees who spent the rest of his grammar school years known as Wee-wee Willie.” Blondie’s high-pitched voice trailed behind her as she moved on to spread the story.
Our entire group exploded with laughter, which snapped Holly’s attention away from her keyboard. “What?”
Ophie patted Holly’s hand. “Never you mind. We’re being silly is all.”
The crowd thinned out and Augusta held her own in a social sense, shaking hands and thanking everyone for their kindness. The nephews never came back to take up their share of the responsibilities, so Bridgy and I decided to ask Miss Augusta if she needed us to help.
Her smile was soft and gentle.
“Delia is buried with her locket thanks to you gals. Past few days have been easier for me with all you done. If I could ask one more favor, please see if you can find Bow. Delia loved that cat. We need to find her a home where she can roam free but still have a place to get her neck ribbon changed and get a taste of vittles.”
It was the last gift Augusta could give Delia. Bridgy and I were determined to make it happen.
I left Bridgy talking to some of our café regulars and went off to wash my hands. Rowena waylaid me as soon as I stepped out from the women’s room. “Sassy, you must help me.”
Before I could answer, she glanced all around.
“Not here, but soon. It’s a matter of life and death.” And she hurried out the side door into the parking lot.
Chapter Nineteen ||||||||||||||||||||
I took my seat next to Bridgy, who said, “Don’t you look mystified. Are you pondering the meaning of life?”
“Almost. I met Rowena in the hallway and she wants to talk to me about a matter of life and death. What can she possibly mean? And why me of all people?”
Bridgy’s response was brittle. “Cold hard cash is the only thing important to Rowena. She says ‘life and death’ but she means ‘help me make money.’ Maybe she wants us to do some consignments for her.”